Birthday Dragons are Greedy Dragons
by tacotits
Summary: In which it is Date Masamune's birthday and not only is his overly excitable super cute boyfriend unable to attend, but the poor birthday dragon doesn't even manage to get smashed. [DateSana] [Business AU-ish] [Originally part of my DateSana Bedtime Stories series]


_A/N: Depending on the context, all caps is either used to indicate Masamune's ENGRISH or SHOUTING. This was originally part of my DateSana BedTime Stories collection but then it wound up as a fic of its own. Be warned that the dragon has a foul mouth so there is lots of crude language, and also there is a sex scene. Otherwise enjoy!_

 **Birthday Dragons are Greedy Dragons**

Masamune always had huge birthday bashes and this one was no exception -big setup, lots of food and booze, even a fucking DJ. But it all meant nothing because Yukimura couldn't make it. He had recently been promoted at work (their positions were now technically at the same level, which definitely excited Masamune), and the date for the celebration dinner wound up the same date as the dragon's massive party. The latter had of course apologized profusely-promising to make it up to him somehow. And, well, not much could be done about it, so he had sent the other off with his usual cocky grin and a promise not to get too smashed.

Of course, that last part probably wasn't going to work out, because Motochika had just showed up with a massive selection of booze ("For the Birthday Boy~") and one of his favorite tracks had just come on. Damn though, even as he clinked bottles with Motochika (they were starting off the night with some hard cider), Yukimura filled up his head. Picturing him flailing to the music or disapproving of Masamune's alcohol consumption left the birthday dragon grinning. What he wouldn't give to get the other all hot and sweaty, moving his limbs to the beat and locking eyes with him through the flashing lights. Kissing him in the dim when no one was looking. Pulling him away to his room when things got too heated. Honestly, even just trying to teach the idiot how to play Beer Pong would have been enjoyable (normally said game was a pretty mediocre, he had to admit, which is why one time he and Motochika had lit the cups on fire. Unfortunately, the resulting damage had gotten that version banned by Kojūrō.). With a sigh, he downed the rest of the bottle. Fuck this. It was his birthday. He was gonna make it fun, with or without his cute, hot, overly excitable boyfriend.

After pounding through two songs with his eyepatch bro, Masamune's face had transformed from a pout to a smug grin. The music soothed like nothing else, especially when you were as good at dancing as he happened to be. He looked hot as hell out there. Between the beat that sounded in time with his pulse, and the slight sweat that he had worked up, Masamune could feel the party in his bones again. Now he just needed another drink. Motochika quickly offered to whip something up (a bit dangerous, considering that time he almost poisoned Keiji, but dragons lived life on the edge). Things were looking up. This night was definitely going to end up as a good one. That was, until he saw them.

The pleasant buzz humming through his head cranked up to a incessant hiss. The music all but tuned out-turning into a wave of pure noise. His lips curled downward. Who invited Takenaka fucking Hanbei?!

To make the things stranger (and more awful) the complete prick sauntered in accompanied by none other than Mōri. The two hated each other (who didn't Mōri hate though?), But at the moment that seemed to have been set aside for the greater evil-fucking up Date Masamune's birthday. Hanbei set him on edge, but that alone wouldn't have killed his buzz. Mōri coming meant one important thing-Motochika's attention suddenly only had a singular focus. And sure enough, as soon as the promised drink had been passed off to him, Masamune's "best friend" slipped off with nothing but a pathetic excuse in his wake.

Masamune's face darkened.

What an asshole.

The drink was discarded on a table somewhere (god help whatever poor soul tried to taste it), and Masamune set back to letting the thunder of the music set his heart beat. But he was lacking his B's. No boyfriend, no best friend, and no booze (the latter because he wasn't in the mood for drinking anymore). With a disgusted sigh, he gave up on the music and set on seeking out new company.

Motochika had promised to be back, but since Mōri was involved, who knew when that would be. It has been a while now, so there was a high possibility the two were just making out in some dark corner. At the same time, it was equally likely that Mōri had finally gone and murdered the so called "pirate." In which case, no one would find the body for weeks. Masamune made a mental note to check up on his bestie before the night was through.

First on his list to bother took the form of a mildly exasperated gun-slinging badass of a lady. Magoichi could be a blast (because of the explosions, get it) to hang out with, but at the moment it looked like she was occupied with a quite jovially drunk Keiji. They were the spitting image of a dog excitedly slobbering over a dismayed human. Poor Keiji, he didn't know that Magoichi wasn't into dudes. On any other day, Masamune might have popped in and saved his friend (s? He was friends with Keiji, right? Hell, who WASN'T friends with Keiji?), But he wasn't feeling all that charitable at the moment. On to the next person then.

He had hoped to avoid Mitsutada and Ookurikara because of the slight chance that they would finally resolve the sexual tension between them and fuck already. From the place Masamune was spying- OBSERVING from about five meters away, it looked like they were finally making some progress. Maybe. Wait wait. When he looked again, they weren't holding hands, but rather there was an awkward space between their fingers. God damnit. With a frown, the disgruntled birthday dragon stomped over. The two looked back and up before his hands even settled on their shoulders, but he gripped them firmly anyway.

"Do me a favor, you two." The words shot out, silencing any greeting from Mitsutada. Masamune crouched down to where they were sitting, now eye level. "JUST DO IT ALREADY," he slurred in awkward but understandable English, grinning wide. Mitsutada just blinked at him, tilting his head slightly. That's right, he didn't understand English. Ookurikara, however, most certainly DID. A quick glance exposed that fact right away-the corners on his mouth were pulled back more than usual and pink ripened his cheeks.

"Aruji," he responded, not making eye contact. "Fuck off."

Even as Mitsutada leaned over to hit the tanned man for his rude behavior, Masamune just laughed and stood up. "GOOD RUCK!"

Katsuie, his precious "adopted son," was next on this list to bother. Of course, with the way things had been going tonight, it shouldn't have been a surprise to see him occupied with someone else. "Oh? DEVEROPMENT?" Sakon, who had signed up as the DJ for the night, had Katsuie in the booth with him. He seemed to be showing the other how to work the equipment and switch records. They were more friendly than Masamune had seen in the past-Sakon nudging Katsuie and making jokes with him. Though it didn't look like Katsuie had drank too much, booze never showed on his face, so Masamune really had no way of knowing. The caught the other's eyes with his own and threw a thumbs up across the room. The other blushed slightly (perfect precious son) and Masamune moved on to his next target.

Which turned out to be a bust too, because Shigezane had a lady friend with him. But seriously though, this was Masamune's birthday party! Why the hell did everyone else seem to have something going on? Even Kojūrō was getting some action for fuck's sake. What gave?!

Wait.

Masamune froze.

KOJŪRŌ?!

The man did indeed seem to be "getting some." Closer inspection revealed that he had someone else pushed up against the wall in one of the darker hallways. Damn, that looked like an intense make-out session. But who was the lucky partner? Masamune always figured that his "mom" and Yukimura's monkey had something going on (which was easy to assume when you considered all the times they were forced to interact because of their two charges), but Sarutobi supposedly had dinner with Yukimura and the rest of their office right now. So who the fuck was- No. No fucking way. White hair and a dash of purple? He couldn't be-

Kojūrō shifted with his partner, pulling the other closer before leaning in to bite down hard on his neck. The man leaned his head up and over Masamune's guardian's shoulder, giving him better access to that soft pale skin. And that's when he made eye contact with Masamune.

Takenaka fucking Hanbei.

Kojūrō's partner for the night was that goddamn snake for whatever reason, and they both seemed to be enjoying themselves too-Hanbei's purple nails dug deeply into the other's back. Masamune felt like he just walked in on his dad having an affair; the shock kept him from looking away. Hanbei wasn't bothered though.

"Oh Katakura-kun! More!" He called out just loud enough for the horrified party dragon to hear. And then, eyes still locked, he winked at Masamune.

God no.

Masamune didn't run away. He didn't turn faster than humanly possible and shoot to the other side of the house. He most certainly didn't feel like he was going to be sick. Nope. He was a rock in the face of adversity. He could handle anything. He needed another drink.

Could the night get any worse?

He immediately retracted the question because there were plenty of ways it could and would, if he wasn't careful. In fact, one crashed through the front door right then. Because who would show up at this moment of despair other than Sanada Genjirou Yukimura?

His work suit was crumpled and his red tie had been pulled loose and askew. Somehow he had managed to roll both his sleeves up to his elbows and also dislodge his hair tie, meaning the brown strands were tossed messily over his back and shoulders. One didn't have to look to his red face to understand-Yukimura was absolutely plastered. Fuck. The disaster of drunken Yukimura occurred rarely, but always invovled serious property damage and occasional injuries to invovled parties. While the young tiger hid no ill intent behind his brown eyes, he often got overexcited, and in his drunken haze, that meant a slap on the back sent a normal person hurtling across the room. Masamune really didn't want to call out to him just then, but who knew what would happen to the house if he didn't.

"Well, what do we have here? If it isn't Sanada!" Play it cool, Masamune. You got this. Convince your drunk boyfriend to not do anything stupid.

He wasn't sure when he hit the floor because the next thing he knew, Yukimura was on top of him, kissing him savagely. If the knowledge of the other's drunkenness hadn't weighed heavily in his mind, Masamune would have been really into this. He definitely didn't mind making a scene in front of so many people-the fact that Yukimura had been so desperate to push him down had his blood pumping immediately. His rival already had hands all over him too; one tangled in his hair and forced their mouths flush while the other gripped at his ass through his jeans.

They finally broke apart for air, but Yukimura's didn't let up. He ran his tongue along the side of his boyfriend's face before tonguing the edge of his ear and nipping at the lobe.

"Masamune-dono," the words leaked out heavily, like he couldn't hold them back. A pause followed. Yukimura took the lobe of Masamune's ear into his mouth and began sucking on it slowly.

Shit. Shit. Shit. If he hadn't been hard before, he definitely was now.

"Masamune-dono." The sucking paused only so he could whisper directly into his lover's ear. "I want to fuck you."

FUCK.

Fuck, fuck, FUCK! The word repeated at subsonic speed in his head.

Masamune flipped them with something of a growl. Yukimura's mouth was hot against his as they kissed roughly. He swore the tiger and managed to moan out his name in-between the firm press of their lips. One of Masamune's hands held himself up while the other groped at the obvious bulge in the other's slacks, more than ready to elicit some moans of his own. This position didn't last long though. Yukimura pushed up, forcing the dragon's hand aside in favor of grinding up against his crotch. His cells were on fire and he couldn't get enough of it. Inebriated state be damned-Yukimura had started this and Masamune sure as hell wasn't about to let it end.

"Woah, woah! No PDA on the dance floor!" Masamune probably wouldn't have even heard the words if they hadn't been half shouted as a pair of strong hands ripped him off Yukimura. Normally Masamune would have punched the offender immediately, but it was none other than Chōsokabe. He paused for a moment, long enough for their eyes to meet. So Mōri hadn't killed him then. Good, good. With that confirmed, Masamune punched him.

Cursing followed. And then punches came flying back at him. And all sexual tension was forgotten because FUCKING PIRATE WAS GONNA GET WHAT WAS COMING TO HIM.

That was, until Yukimura's shouting pulled them apart.

"CHOUSAKABE-DONO! IF YOU MAY PARDON MY INTERRUPTION, I MUST INFORM YOU THAT MASAMUNE-DONO WILL BE MY PARTNER FOR THE EVENING." Drunken and dazed he may have been, but as usual, polite words flowed easily from his lips. Or rather, "expelled from his lips like bullets" might be a better way to explain it, since Yukimura's volume currently reached max. And considering his usual boisterousness, that was really fucking loud.

The eyepatch bros ceased their fighting to look his way, fists still raised. (Really, practically everyone in the house looked their way, but the three idiots couldn't be credited with being aware of their surroundings at that point.) Masamune smirked, and opened his mouth to comment. Yukimura's speech had yet to finish though, and he continued on at the same level of "enthusiasm."

"IF YOU WILL EXCUSE US, I WILL BE PARTAKING IN MASAMUNE-DONO FOR THE REMAINDER OF THE NIGHT."

Anything the dragon might have said remains a mystery, because immediately following, the eager tiger scooped him up and threw him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. The shock must have been too great, because Masamune didn't resist. Like an eager puppy taking home a prize, Yukimura trotted away to Masamune's room, happily patting some fine dragon ass as he did. No one commented. Really, weirder things had definitely happened in the Date household, so the party went on without a hitch.

* * *

Yukimura knew his way around the Date household well enough to easily navigate up the stairs to Masamune's band poster covered room. He knew the other's clothing well enough to quickly undo the silver embedded leather dragon belt, and shimmy the rest of the clothing to his knees. He knew the dragon well enough to remember that the other loved some teasing, and biting roughly against the dragon's bare thighs only excited him more, despite how desperate his cock was for attention.

Masamune was more than well aware of his boyfriend's capability (drunk or not) to dissolve him into gasps and moans. While part of him just wanted the other to get on with it already, the other part of him loved it when Yukimura took charge like this. God, he amazed Masamune both ways. The dragon loved pinning the other beneath him, drawing out loud moans as the other gripped him desperately. But he also quite longed to have the tiger insider him, moaning out his name in-between gasps as he pounded into the dragon with everything he had. What was it going to be tonight? It looked like Yukimura might take him, but he so much wanted both. Some called him a greedy dragon, but it was his goddamn birthday. And birthday dragons got what they wanted.

For now though, the hot lips finally sliding down his length were satisfactory-or "really fucking good," because Masamune wasn't satisfied easily. Which is why they had only started when he experimentally thrust into Sanada's mouth. Okay, he took it all back. This was all he needed for his birthday. Those lips squeezed his dick quite pleasantly despite the speed at which it was sliding in and out. The drunk salaryman gripped his hips tightly and closed his eyes, seemingly enjoying the feeling. God, he was too good for Masamune. He needed to stop letting the dragon be so selfish all the time and actually scold him or something. Yukimura was too damn pure though.

At that very moment the tiger groaned loudly around the other's cock, following up this motion with a hand that slid forward to steadily but gently fondle the dragon's balls.

"Sanad-" Masamune's moan was cut short as Yukimura's other hand wrapped tightly around the base of his dick. It moved in time with those hot lips. From top to base, he had Masamune entirely at his fingertips, and from the pace he was pushing, it looked like he intended to finish him off here and now.

Fuck. Not pure. Neverfuckingmind on that one. The birthday dragon definitely couldn't complain though. Yukimura moaned out his name once more and Masamune's world went white for a moment.

He had to take a moment to breath as the spasms stopped and his heart slowed to the average pace again. When did Yukimura get so incredibly good at this? Fuck. But then he looked down to where his boyfriend was currently cleaning him off with soft licks and kisses. And the orgasm didn't even matter anymore. If it was something Yukimura did, of course it would be good-this was Yukimura after all. The Lord of the Date really didn't want anyone else.

And with that incredibly cheesy thought, he leaned down to meet his lover so that he could push him to the floor and cover him in sloppy but affectionate kisses. This stupid idiot. He loved him so much. Fucking Yukimura.

Wait.

Fucking Yukimura?

That was exactly what he wanted to be doing right now.

Between kisses he slid hands up between the two of them and undid the other's shirt so that he could run fingers over perk pink nipples. And oh, how Yukimura moaned for him. The young man's nipples had always been quite sensitive, and Masamune loved how easily he could reduce him to a boneless mess, shivering and despite.

"Your movements... are... dishonorable." The tiger managed between gasps, head thrown back already and fingers digging into Masamune's back.

"Says the one who just ripped off my pants and blew my mind," the dragon responded. He hovered close to his boyfriend's ear, having already left a trail of hickies along his neck. "I think it's /your turn/."

"Indeed," came the reply, barely managing to mask a moan. "But as this evening is one of celebration for your livelihood, I do intend to treat you most well."

"Oh? And how are you going to-" For the umpteenth time that night, the dragon was cut off by his tiger. Despite his moans and seemingly subdued state, Yukimura had managed to slip down his own pants and undergarments, and was now rubbing his cock up against Masamune's exposed member. When did the sneaky bastard-?! Sneaky, but still intoxicated, he gripped the two between his hand, and began to slide up and down. Fuck-! Masamune's cock came back to life with amazing speed. He pushed against the other, savoring the firm thickness.

Sanada wasn't finished though. The thirsty bastard began savagely kissing Masamune, all the while shifting up so that the other was in his lap. Masamune's heart pounded at lightning speed as he responded in turn, definitely not about to let his boyfriend keep the lead for too long. His right hand joined the other's in stroking their throbbing dicks firmly while his left tangled in those spikes and yanked Yukimura's face into an angle where he was free to shove his tongue in deep. He wouldn't let Mr. Not-So-Pure stay ahead. Every competitive bone in his body urged him to flip the other back down and just fuck him already. He wanted Yukimura.

But Yukimura was one step ahead.

The tiger's free hand groped Masamune's ass firmly. And that was all the warning his got before Yukimura started fingering him thoroughly. When had he slicked his fingers? When did they increase to two-no three? God it was all so fucking fast and he hadn't even been the one with too much to drink. It was too much and not enough all at once. Yukimura, you asshole! Then there were four fingers and Masamune had to pull back from the kiss so that he could shove his ass down hard. The feeling overwhelmed him so much that he almost didn't catch the next thing that was said.

"May I have your permission?"

Masamune groaned and spat out something unintelligible in English. No response followed so he summoned all his self-control to throw his arms over his boyfriend's shoulders. "You had better start FUCKING me this instant or you are going to be the one on your back."

Yukimura had the audacity to chuckle softly. "I always enjoy a fight, Masamune-dono. But tonight shall be my victory."

Later, Masamune would snarkily explain that it had actually been his victory because Yukimura made him feel nothing short of amazing, but at the moment, he couldn't form words. The fingers had been replaced by Sanada's dick (about goddamn time), and he was focusing on shoving himself down in time with Yukimura's thrusts. God, sex with your rival should be illegal. Especially someone as stupidly overzealous as Yukimura, who easily lifted Masamune up, even as that cock still throbbed inside him, before shoving him onto the bed.

Thighs hooked high above Yukimura's hips, Masamune didn't even bother to mask his moans. The tiger was way louder than him anyway, so it didn't matter a bit. Before, the more excitable man had described having sex with Masamune like being struck by lightning. And if that was the case, having sex with Yukimura would be akin to burning in a wildfire. He felt red hot and wondered if steam escaped his mouth with each gasp. Or at least he would have wondered, had he not been occupied with cursing in English as Yukimura switched to a new angle that left his toes curling and his fingers digging in tighter.

They were both so close.

Sex usually ended like their fights did-both panting as their bodies cooled before reaching over to patch each other up. These were the moments that Masamune liked best. Not because it was one of the few times that Yukimura wasn't fucking shouting, but rather because of the sharp contrast between the previous intensity. They both deserved their rest. And in that stillness, Yukimura felt closer than ever. When his single silver eye met warm brown ones, they did so at the same frequency. Masamune's hand caught the other's cheek and was met with a warm widening grin-"I love you with all I am." But it didn't need to be said. It was felt.

And even when they were both curled up in the dark blue sheets, freshly clothed and clean, that sense of stillness remained. They fit like spoons, and Masamune nuzzled his face into the soft brown hair of his lover. The tiger mumbled something back softly, clearly on the cusp of sleep. He couldn't entirely catch it, but the dragon was sure the words were "Happy Birthday."

What a dork.

* * *

Rather than the sunlight leaking through the curtains, Yukimura's groans woke Masamune up. The other had his head in his hands and looked to be in quite a bit of pain; it shouldn't have been surprising how hungover he was.

"Morning, Red," Masamune touched his shoulder softly, barely resisting the urge to tussle his hair affectionately. He didn't want to make the headache worse.

"Masamune-dono?" Through the pain, it seemed like the other had only just now recognized his boyfriend's presence. And after a long stare, he slowly looked around, taking in his surroundings before looking back to Masamune, noting the bruises along his neck. The dragon felt his stomach slide into a knot. That's right. His stupid rival has probably blacked out far before he made it to the Date residence. Suddenly, he understood why Yukimura always seemed so uncomfortable when Masamune drank too much.

"...Was I successful in presenting you with "birthday sex"?" Were Yukimura's eyes narrowed because of the pain or because he couldn't remember? The tired Lord of the House settled on C, both of the above.

"The answer would be YES."

This seemed to cheer the hungover tiger quite a bit, and he slowly removed his hand from his head to place it on the dragon's. He smiled softly. But it may as well have been dazzling because he was too goddamn cute and pure. Where were Masamune's sunglasses when he needed them? "I am glad I could properly bestow you with the fabled "birthday sex"!" The joy reached all the way to his vocal cords, bringing them to a low shout. He immediately winced at the noise. Fucking precious.

The wording seemed a bit off, and so Masamune inquired for clarification with a slight frown. The tiger elaborated happily. "One of my co-workers spent yesterday moping about how he had not received the promised "birthday sex" from his girlfriend, and how it had been, hmm... to borrow his word choice, "a total bummer." How ignorant I had been! It had not come to my attention that "birthday sex" was a requirement for the special occasion. I worried that my role as your lover and rival might be lacking-"

"Woah woah, Sanada, stop right there." Masamune wanted to laugh at how distraught his idiot boyfriend was. "I don't know what you heard exactly but "birthday sex" is far from a requirement. IT'S PERK, RIGHT?" He rambled on, as he sometimes had to do after English phrases because people didn't understand him (their loss). "It's only something to do if you're interested."

The other was still frowning. "Sasuke said the same thing, and of course I told him that I was more than interested in partaking in such an activity with you. Of course, then my mind became occupied with you and ... Such activities and... I admit that I consumed more alcohol than I should have in my distracted state. ...I have no recollection of what happened after that." He finished, slightly red from various types of embarrassment.

Idiot.

With the corners of his mouth tugged slightly upwards, Masamune pulled his boyfriend into a gentle hug. "Don't worry, Sanada. You just partied too hard, THAT'S ALL."

"...And the sex?" The voice came out uncharacteristically quiet.

"Don't forget that you're Sanada Yukimura-of course you fucking blew my mind."

While the morning after usually started with a dramatic contest of "Who can run down the stairs to the kitchen first?" the headache that Yukimura sported this morning turned their competition into "Who can slowly and quietly creep down the stairs first?" And that's probably why the kitchen was still occupied when they arrived.

The two quietly touched the door frame at the same time, locking eyes and grinning at each other-another tie. The giddiness swiftly ended though. Because there, casually leaning against the counter like he owned the place was none other than

Takenaka fucking Habei.

He was chatting with a rather haggard looking Kojūrō, who seemed to have only just finished brewing coffee. "You seem so eager to have me gone, Katakura-kun. Surely the hospitality of Date isn't so poor that you would turn me away without breakfast~?" He all but cooed, stretching out a hand to touch the other's arm.

Kojūrō gave a non-committal grunt and passed over a mug. "I expect you to be gone before Masamune-Sama wakes up though."

The sleezeball accepted the cup (of course making sure to make as much contact with Kojūrō's hand as possible), before taking a long sip. Only then did he respond, looking up from white lashes. "Oh, I am afraid that might be impossible." The smugness all but oozed from his voice. When the disgruntled retainer glanced at him with confusion, Hanbei simply replied by looking pointedly at the doorway where the two young troublemakers still stood in shock. Well, just Masamune actually, Yukimura seemed to be still preoccupied with his hangover.

The color all but drained from the scarred man's face and he whipped around so fast that he almost spilled his coffee. "Masamune-Sama!" The words came out, automatically triggered by the dragon's presence. Nothing followed through, and the two stared at each other awkwardly, each hoping the head of the Date wouldn't think too hard about what it meant that Hanbei was here in the house at this hour. Masamune really didn't want the mental image of the things the older two may have been doing the previous night. 100% nope.

Yukimura sighed.

"Wait, what are you doing?! That's a WARZONE!" Masamune hissed in worry as the young tiger plodded into the kitchen.

He looked up from the fridge door. No one else had moved. Apparently this was a stalemate for now and everyone was waiting to see how Masamune would react (Hanbei not so secretly hoped it would bring some entertainment to his morning. Kojūrō was still embarrassed for being found out.) Yukimura, however, had a more important task in mind.

"I am making breakfast for us..." He trailed off, eyes slowly looking from the stressing retainer to the obviously unwelcome man leaning against the counter. He wasn't thinking of doing what Masamune was afraid he was thinking of doing, was he? "Katakura-dono? Hanbei-dono? Would you be interested in partaking as well?" FUCK.

The white-haired man just smiled. "Why don't we all eat together?"

Goddammit, Hanbei.

And that's how the four of them wound up at the breakfast table, slowly munching away. Disregarding (or possibly choosing to ignore) the awkward tension completely, Yukimura started up a conversation with the uncomfortable Retainer on the subject matter of healthy breakfast foods. Masamune was left sitting across from who might have been his least favorite person in the room, seething quietly. Even a hot cup of caffeine (laced with sugar in an attempt to smooth things over), didn't make things better. All smiles still, the white-haired man opened his mouth.

"Happy birthday, Masamune-kun."

Happy?!

Not even one fucking bit.

Worst birthday ever.

 _End._


End file.
